


He's Not a Girl

by minolyn



Series: Ask and Ye Shall Recieve [6]
Category: Ylvis
Genre: Angst, M/M, Unrequited, Valle, crossdressing Calle
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-05-05
Updated: 2015-07-06
Packaged: 2018-03-29 05:46:47
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,162
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3884698
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/minolyn/pseuds/minolyn
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The Prompt: I challenge you to write a Valle crossdressing ficlet that is pure angst, no humour or fluff allowed. Are you up for it? :D (Well okay a little bit of fluff is allowed)</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Humbae](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Humbae/gifts).



Calle adjusted his outfit nervously while he waited. He was wearing the costume dress for his Helga character in Hotel Nutsefjord, but instead of the waiter’s costume he usually wore underneath in rehearsals, he only had on one of the girls’ white button up shirts with the frilly sleeves. The fabric on the girls’ shirts was always so much softer and nicer. He’d told Vegard he wanted to work a bit one on one with him on some of the scenes of the play, and invited him to do so together that Sunday morning when they’d have the auditorium to themselves. However, it wasn’t actually necessary for them to be in costume for this particular rehearsal.

He liked Vegard. He craved his attention, which he usually gave gladly, but he wanted more. He wasn’t sure what exactly. Perhaps just for Vegard to look at him the way he did at Helene, a girl in their year. Vegard liked girls, Calle knew that. But they were really becoming such close friends these days, the way they behaved together, sometimes he wondered whether it was really so unthinkable…

 Vegard finally showed up at the auditorium, he himself dressed in an ordinary old Tshirt,  jacket, and jeans. He expressed his confusion when he saw the way Calle was dressed, laughed a little and asked him whether he wasn’t cold, since he wasn’t even wearing any pants. Calle just sort of shrugged bashfully and gave non-committal answers, diverting him to start working on the play while trying to scan his face for any sign of a reaction he might actually be seeking.   
They worked for a while, revising dialogue and trying different acting approaches, until they decided they needed a break and sat side by side on the steps leading down from the stage into the seating area. The skirt didn’t cover Calle’s knees and so, the way he sat, his underwear was on full display to the empty auditorium.

“Seriously though, dude, why the dress?” Vegard asked after a moment of comfortable silence, having closed the previous topic.

“I don’t know, I guess I just like it.. don’t you?” Calle glanced at him expectantly.

“Um.. sure?”

The following silence was awkward, but Calle soon broke it by stretching out his legs in front of him and saying, “some people say my legs look kind of like a woman’s.”

“Really?” Vegard asked, tilting his head to one side as he observed the long and lanky limbs.

“Yeah, I tried on my mom’s high heels once and my family said I could totally pass for a woman from the thighs down.” 

“Wow, that’s weird.”

“Is it?”

“I don’t know, isn’t it?” Vegard didn’t seem to quite know how to react to the whole subject.

“Do you think you could have pretended I was a girl?” Calle asked, resenting the tremor beginning to build up in his arms.

“Well, I kind of already do.”

“What?”

“In the play, when you’re Helga.”

“Oh, yeah. But that’s like a character. I meant for real.”

“If I could pretend in real life that you’re a girl?” Vegard asked, and Calle nodded. “But why would I?”

“I don’t know, do you need a reason? I’m just asking if you could see me as a girl.” His heart was beating faster now, and he was very much aware that their sides were touching slightly in the small space on the steps.

“But.. but you’re not a girl, why would I pretend you are unless we’re acting?”

“Look, Vegard, this isn’t rocket science!” before he knew what he was doing, he stood up in front of him, placing his hands on his hips and standing more on one leg in a pose attempting to look more feminine, “Look at me now, and pretend that I’m a girl.”

Vegard looked him up and down, confusion still being the dominant expression on  his features. “Okay..?”

They stared at each other. Calle didn’t know what he was doing anymore. He felt so pathetic standing there in that dumb dress, making Vegard look at him without understanding why, because he himself wasn’t sure what he wanted to come out of this. The deeper the line between Vegard’s eyebrows got, the tighter Calle’s chest felt.

“Now what?” Vegard asked.

Calle exhaled sharply, dropping one of his hands loose to his side and looking away before finding his eyes once more. “Do you… Do you think I’m.. pretty?” He hated himself immediately for asking it.

Vegard opened his mouth as if to speak, but whatever it was got caught in his throat and only a short choked sound came out. His eyebrows furrowed even more as he tried and failed to properly process the implication of this question. Calle’s hand was shaking visibly now, but other than that he didn’t dare move. His brain had grinded to a halt and no words or ideas came to him. He didn’t know how to get them out of this bubble of uncomfortableness in which he had stupidly entrapped them both. Finally, it was Vegard who broke the silence.

“Calle, are you.. gay?”

Now it was the tall boy’s turn to have his words caught in his throat. The question was so blunt, so unexpected, he didn’t know how to answer it.

“Are you?”

“No.. I don’t know.. what does that have to do with anything? Are you gay?” Calle mumbled defensively.

“No, I’m not. But you’re the one asking me to think of you as a girl and stuff...“

“That’s just..”

“Calle, you’re not a girl.”

“I know that, I..”

“So I don’t see the point in me pretending that you are, when you’re not.” Vegard glanced at his wristwatch before continuing, completely missing the anguished expression Calle let slip before covering it up with his best attempt at nonchalance, “Look it’s getting a bit late, I promised Bård I’d do a thing with him today. I’ll see you tomorrow?”

“Oh, um.. sure.”

Vegard got up from the steps and patted Calle’s on the arm, “and then you can explain to me what all this is about, yeah?”

“Okay, sure.” Calle nodded, not meeting his eyes. He both wanted him to leave and desperately wanted him to stay, at the same time.

But he did leave, and then Calle stood alone in the auditorium, trying to organize his feelings and calm his breathing to no avail. He had no idea how he’d intended for this day to go, but that was nowhere near it. All he felt was embarrassed and stupid. There was obviously no way he was showing up for school tomorrow if it meant he had to explain to Vegard what just happened. Maybe if he was gone for a few days he’d forget about it. He looked down at the stupid black dress he was wearing and, in a series of angry, clumsy motions, pulled it over his head and tossed it aside.


	2. The 4 Stjerners incident

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The prompt: "Things you didn’t say at all" for Valle and make it angsty please
> 
> Same prompter, same story-line. What happened years later on a drunken balcony.

He never did explain the incident of the Helga dress to Vegard, and Vegard, being the socially obtuse person that he was, hadn’t the interpersonal curiosity to revisit it. In time his own personal confusions dulled. Calle knew who and what he was and was at peace with it, he bore no shame what so ever. His feelings towards his best friend, however, never lessened.

Vegard got married to Helene. They had a daughter, then a son. Far would it be from Calle to pester him with his ill advised longings, it was clear now that Vegard wasn’t on the same page, perhaps not even in the same book. He was grateful for the friendship that stayed, and for the repeated opportunities to work with Ylvis over the years. He wouldn’t have exchanged that for anything in the world. And so, for fear of losing what little of Vegard he could have, he made no further advances, no flirtation, no uncomfortable questions. He got as close to him as a best friend of a married man could, drinking in whatever Vegard would give him, and when his emotions would seem to run too high, he forced himself to back away, inventing some pretext like being too busy to meet or vaguely “having a rough time at home”, until he felt he could get himself under control again, or if he just missed him too much. Vegard began to know him as one of those friends who just needed to disappear sometimes. Just antisocial or moody. He bore this behavior from him with complete tolerance, never really asking questions or prying as what might be his real motives behind it.

So how was it that these two strictly platonic friends found themselves amid a fiery kiss one evening, years and years later, on the balcony of a cabin in the country and heavily inebriated?  
Calle was way too drunk to ever remember how it had even happened, who had started it and why. He did know that they were there, originally, filming 4 Stjerners Middag with Bård and couple of guests. He knew that it was probably one of the stupidest ideas they’d ever come up with and Bård had already lost his lunch before they were halfway through it. He himself could at least handle his alcohol, but the brothers were both complete lightweights. What else could explain Vegard’s lips being smashed against his own, his tongue flailing around clumsily in his mouth, and his hands not knowing where to settle themselves, groping from his shirt to his sides to his chest to his face.  
Calle could barely even enjoy it, knowing this would never happen if he was sober. That this shouldn’t be happening at all. He tried to help matters by grabbing Vegard’s hands and entwining their fingers together so he could have a better chance on focusing on the actual kiss.  _‘Just enjoy the moment while it lasts, this is all you’ll ever get’_  he told himself.

Vegard broke the kiss with a loud ‘smack’ and steadied himself on his feet, a grin slow to spread across his face as he tried to focus his eyes on Calle’s. They both breathed heavily.

“I am so..” Vegard began, and with every word punctuated with a laugh he swayed closer to the other, “… fucking.. drunk.”

Calle smiled back at him, but said nothing. Vegard watched his features and pulled one of his hands out of the finger-lock to touch one of the corners of Calle’s mouth, his own face taking on a more concerned expression.

“sad smile..” he said, tracing a finger along the lines on his cheek. The words themselves made it falter and a lump formed in his throat. He was oddly more observant in his current state than he usually was. 

He could have told him then. He could have told him anything, he wouldn’t remember it and he could have let it out at last, the secret he never told a soul. The camera man wasn’t even there, he was off filming the others and whatever it was they were up to, no one had to know, it would have no consequences. He stared into those shiny, brown eyes and tried. He really tried to let out of the words, but they wouldn’t come. And he couldn’t tell if Vegard was able to see them in his eyes anyway, but his features softened as he said the most heart breaking thing.

“My Calle.”

He dropped his head forward and leaned into his chest for an embrace. Calle swallowed painfully and wrapped his arms around his dearest friend.   
There. This was safer. If the camera man came ‘round now all he’d find was the two of them hugging it out like two proper drunkards, nothing too embarrassing. But it wasn’t a minute longer until Vegard raised his head again, dropping his head back as far as his neck would allow and pressed his lips to his once more. This time it was softer, more deliberate and sensual. Vegard opened his mouth to let in Calle’s tongue and he barely managed to throw his upper half past the balcony’s railing before he started vomiting up everything he’d eaten. 

It’s the alcohol, Calle reminded himself. It was the horribly stupid drinking and not the idea of kissing him, that had him puking his guts out right now. Though, without that horribly stupid drinking, the kissing would probably never have happened either. Still, reality was finally falling back into place, it was time to move on with the show, especially because the camera man had finally found them, just in time to film the ugliness. He placed a comforting hand on Vegard’s back until he thought he was done, and then helped him up and into the house, taking care to hold a beer bottle in his hand in order to keep up appearances for the audience later on, in case they put this part in. 

“We’re just going to move, we’re not going far.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Now watch Calle's face while they're all on the couch listening to the opera singer and piano.


End file.
